[2012] Father... (Category 1)
Jun. 11th, 2012 01:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arccie posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
smashconTitle: Father…
Author: KoshiroEmika
Rating: (G/PG) PG
Prompt: Deceit
Fandom/Series: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Word Count: 2420
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Summary: A grudge created by the love of a parent, and a broken promise that Edward Elric cannot overlook. But with the truth being exposed before him, he slowly learns to meet Van Hohenhiem halfway.
Father…
15 years ago.
My father was rarely at home. When he did come back, it was only for a night or two in which he spent in his room, with only mama going in and out, till the day he would suddenly leave without a word, looking worn. With mama by our side, we had no need for him, but the empty seat at the dining table was a cruel reminder that I would never have the father that everyone else had.
I remember the first time I saw him clearly. The shaky legs of my toddler feet made me unsteady as I walked slowly towards him, who stood rigidly by the doorway. My tiny hands flew to his large leg as I tried to steady my first few steps, but I grabbed nothing but thin air. The loud slam of the door was the last I heard of him for another year.
14 years ago.
I was able to talk then. My first word, surprisingly, had been papa, then mama, followed shortly by Alphonse as he entered my life. He was happier, and for the first time, he smiled in front of me. Something happened on his trip that I only found out about much later. Days, weeks or months later – my childish memory had no recollection of dates – I overheard him telling mama, that we weren’t the same as him; that we were different, and that was good.
I found it frightening that I was not the same as him. Mama and he had seen me, wide eyed, stricken, and half hidden by the doorway as I watched the two of them quietly. He sighed, and came by to gently lift me, only to see Al behind me. He lifted the both of us on his broad shoulders, and I watched Al cling on for dear life from the corner of my eyes as I gripped the muscular arm, trying desperately not to look weak. If was to look weak, I would have been born a girl – besides, being weak was Winry's job.
"I have to leave.” I heard him say. The foreign word 'Ishvalan' was heard many times as they continued talking. My mother’s vice-like grip on her own arm, and her trembling voice were obvious enough pointers, even for my naïve self, that something was wrong.
"You aren't ever going to leave us, are you?" I blurted out, my mother’s weak state giving me strength. Aunty Pinako had told me that it was a man’s duty to take care of their mothers and wives.
There was silence, as he stared down at me with a frown. "Are you?!" I demanded again, shattering the sudden silence that had settled over the household like the snow of that cold year.
"I won’t ever," he promised me quietly.
Those words were what I clung onto for. He had promised, and that alone was proof enough to my naive mind that he was staying for good, and not suddenly disappearing like he had before.
Alphonse tugged on my sleeve, having walked over a few steps towards my bed. I stifled a yawn, in fear of waking my parents.
This, it turned out, was unnecessary.
In the doorway, the two of them were standing together, mama's stick-like arms handing over a large brown suitcase to him. They were whispering, and the intensity of their talk muffled our footsteps as we neared them carefully. My kinda mama’s sweet, loving eyes had widened when she had seen us, and though her eyes were filled with sadness, she smiled pleasantly at us.
"My, Ed, what are you doing up so late?"
I rubbed my eyes, and yawned again, my hand gripping Al's.
"Al needed to go to the toilet."
"What a good brother you are,” said Mama. “I can always count on you.”
I smiled sleepily at her compliment - her compliments always drove me. My eyes shifted to papa, who stood by the doorway, still, like the year before. He wasn’t smiling.
I couldn’t dare myself to speak, for my cowardly self shook under the intensity of his stare as he looked down at me from up high.
Like the year before, he left with the huge wooden door slamming loudly behind him.
He had deceived me.
That became the last I saw of him for many years. When mama fell ill, he didn’t come back. When she died, he didn’t come back. Even though Al and I had waited for so long, he had not once thought to see how his sons were doing over three years. He didn’t even come to the funeral. His frequent leaves had become one too many.
After three years, he became less than a father to me.
10 years ago.
It was then we started to study human transmutation, and improved our abilities by training with our alchemy master, Izumi Curtis, in order to revive our mother. It took many years, but with thoughts ‘I want to see mama’s face again’ ‘I want to live happily with mama again’, we were able to finish our research.
“– Done… Water, 35 litres; Carbon, 40 Kilograms; Ammonia, 3 litres; lime, 1.5 kilograms; Phosphorus, 800 grams; salt, 250 grams; nitre, 100 grams; Sulfur 80 grams; Fluorine 7.5 grams; Iron, 5 grams; silicon, 3 grams… All right, let’s write the construction circle…
I had thought, with all that research, we would have succeeded.
We were wrong.
I lost an arm and a leg, and my brother lost his whole body.
9 years ago.
“I just came from your house!”
Someone – Someone was talking to me. I couldn’t hear anything. I couldn’t see. All I saw when I looked up was two furious black orbs. The voice was so far away. It frightened me, that after even so much research and gaining so much knowledge; I didn’t know anything that going on.
“What in the world was that? What did you make?!”
So this man had seen it: our mistake – me and my brothers. No… My mistake. I looked down in shame. I was at a loss for words
“I’m sorry.” I heard an empty armour rattle beside me, speaking in Al’s voice. “I’m sorry… We’re sorry…”
I’m sorry.
Aunty Pinako’s abrupt hitting of her pipe on her full ashtray shook me, but only slightly.
Now, the man was talking to me.
“I’m not forcing you,” he said sternly. “I’m just presenting you with the possibilities. Whether you want to end your life in despair or bow down to the army, seeking what possibilities lies there. If the possibility lies on the path, then you should move forward to return your body to normal. Even if that path is a muddy river.”
I looked blankly at him through tired eyes.
6 years ago.
“The Fuhrer president has given you quite the ironic title…”
“What?” I asked, looking up from the pocket watch inlaid into the velvet box.
“No, congratulations,” said Roy. Sarcasm, obviously. “You’re now a dog of the military.” His stony black eyes turned from the window to me, who lounged on the dull brown couch. For a moment, I remembered the first time we had met, and remembered the pity and anger in his eyes. Was he pitying me? “You’ve been appointed as the ‘Fullmetal’ Alchemist.”
“Fullmetal?” Confusion flitted into my voice as I let the foreign words roll off my tongue.
“Yes, the second name given to state alchemists. The name that you’ll be carrying is ‘Fullmetal Alchemist’”
Huh, ironic. Fullmetal… it sounded heavy, like a burden.
“I like it,” I gave a wry smile, “Sounds like something heavy to carry.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” said Roy easily, returning the smile. “You do realise that you’re free to do whatever you want, and research to your heart’s content? I wish you – “
I stood up abruptly, heading for the heavy doors that would lead me outside.
“Yes, yes.”
4 years ago.
"What was his name again... Hohenheim?"
My hands fisted on my lap instinctively as I heard Al's empty armour rattle quietly next to me. I didn’t even try and stop myself from cursing him.
“That,” I spat angrily, “Bastard.”
Alphonse answered instead. "He’s our father” he said gently. Perhaps that he was too young to remember our fathers promise was why he was able to forgive him so easily. I planned to keep it that way; he had no need to know, and even if he did, could he do anything? Hell, I couldn’t do anything.
He’s not our father, I hissed inwardly to myself, not trusting myself enough to say it aloud. A man did not cry.
“Edward,” my teacher commanded her voice one of hard steel.
My mouth betrayed me, as usual.
“He’s not our father,” I snarled. “Even when mama was dying, he didn’t come.”
There was silence as Izumi looked down at me with calculating eyes, poking at the line I had drawn on the subject that my brother knew all too well.
It seemed that she had nothing to say, or had no interest in breaching the subject. My chair scraped the floor loudly as I stood up, and I walked out of the room robotically, ignoring Al’s useless calling out to me.
In my anger, I slammed the door shut behind me.
I froze, as I remembered father slamming the door behind him so many times, so many years ago.
“Edward Hohenheim, huh?,” I heard in my teachers distinct voice, just as I started walking away, compelling me to listen further. I heard my brothers armour clatter quietly in denial, followed by a typical polite Al-answer.
“Pretty much,” Al replied quietly.
I did not wait to hear the rest, and stomped away angrily, making sure to let Izumi Curtis know that I heard her.
3 years ago.
Mama’s Grave. I hadn’t been there for awhile.
However, what I had expected was an empty cemetery, or perhaps Aunty Pinako staring blankly down at mama’s grave.
An all too familiar back, broad and weighed down blocked the view to mama. I had watched this back, hunched over the desk, in his room every day I could as a child, and it was the body in our family picture, in which someone had covered the face of the man in the background. But there was no way. After all this time, why would he come back?
The blonde head turned around, to reveal eyes that were shockingly similar to the ones that stared back at me in the mirror.
“Pinako told me everything,” the blonde man said, turning around fully to face me. I looked away in disgust. “And you burned down my house,” he continued. I would have smiled, in imagining his shock, but I didn’t, I had no such leisure when he was within a kilometre radius of me.
“I did it so there was no turning back.”
“No…” he corrected. “You did it because you’re scared.”
“I did not!” I snapped.
“You did,” he said softly. “You were scared. And you still are. You don’t want to be reminded of your mistake with human transmutation. Stop deceiving yourself, Ed.”
“I’m not!” I denied furiously. “You can’t say anything – you aren’t even our father anymore! Don’t act like you care. You left when we needed you – and mama, and then you come back! You aren’t wanted here, go back!”
“You ran, didn’t you?” he said sadly.
I bit my lip in anger. “What would you know?!” I stomped away, towards Pinako’s house, getting angrier and angrier as I remembered that Hohenheim would be headed there as well.
That night, it rained. The feeling of someone standing next my supposedly sleeping self woke me up, but after nights of being wary, I made no move to show that I was awake. My eyes opened infinitesimally to see his hand hovering over my head. He seemed to have realised, because he walked out, the door closing quietly behind him.
I opened my eyes, and shifted. My joints ached, and I guessed that this was a good time to go to Winry’s empty room and oil the automail.
Over the rain pounding the window, I heard Van Hohenheim’s voice.
“The thing that my sons transmuted… are you sure that it was Trisha?”
“Huh? I told you, it didn’t even look remotely human,” muttered Pinako. “I can’t even call that Trisha-“
“No, that’s not what I mean. For example, her hair or eye colour.”
“What do you mean?” snapped Pinako, her chair being pushed back as she leaned in. “you’re telling me that those boys lost their bodies by creating something that wasn’t even their mother?”
I woke at dawn the next night from a nightmare. Just in time to see his back disappear once more.
Later, I found that what he said was true. A part of my burden was lifted off my shoulders, but I refused to thank him. It wasn’t even enough to repent for what he did to mama… but I regretted letting him leave without a farewell this time.
1 year ago.
“I am the philosopher’s stone.”
He pointed at his chest with a small smile, looking up at me, his lip bleeding where I had punched him earlier.
“So, what are you going to do now?” he asked wryly. “Do you want me to use me to get your limbs and Al’s body back?”
My teeth snapped together audibly. “No!” I snapped. “I decided not to depend on the stone when I found out that the ingredients were humans.”
He smiled, shocking me.
“I-,” I said awkwardly, filling in the silence. “Aunty Pinako told me to tell you mama’s last words…”
“Hmm?”
“’Sorry I couldn’t keep my promise. I’m going to have to leave you first’,” I repeated. There was a silence, and I felt an increasing awkwardness in the atmosphere. “Message delivered!” I snapped.
I stopped. Before me, Van Hohenheim was staring at the night sky, crying. It wasn’t exactly what I had been expecting.
Perhaps he had cared about family. Perhaps, he had never deceived me.
Yesterday.
Aunty Pinako told me she had seen him kneeling in from of mamas grave, smiling, and gone from this world.
She had already ordered a coffin. The hole was already dug, right next to mama.
I thought it was a fitting place.
Today.
I whispered three, dear words so softly, that no one else would hear me but Al, who stood flesh and blood next to me.
“Good bye, father.”
Please take the time to comment on the fanfic. Thanks.
Author: KoshiroEmika
Rating: (G/PG) PG
Prompt: Deceit
Fandom/Series: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Word Count: 2420
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Summary: A grudge created by the love of a parent, and a broken promise that Edward Elric cannot overlook. But with the truth being exposed before him, he slowly learns to meet Van Hohenhiem halfway.
Father…
15 years ago.
My father was rarely at home. When he did come back, it was only for a night or two in which he spent in his room, with only mama going in and out, till the day he would suddenly leave without a word, looking worn. With mama by our side, we had no need for him, but the empty seat at the dining table was a cruel reminder that I would never have the father that everyone else had.
I remember the first time I saw him clearly. The shaky legs of my toddler feet made me unsteady as I walked slowly towards him, who stood rigidly by the doorway. My tiny hands flew to his large leg as I tried to steady my first few steps, but I grabbed nothing but thin air. The loud slam of the door was the last I heard of him for another year.
14 years ago.
I was able to talk then. My first word, surprisingly, had been papa, then mama, followed shortly by Alphonse as he entered my life. He was happier, and for the first time, he smiled in front of me. Something happened on his trip that I only found out about much later. Days, weeks or months later – my childish memory had no recollection of dates – I overheard him telling mama, that we weren’t the same as him; that we were different, and that was good.
I found it frightening that I was not the same as him. Mama and he had seen me, wide eyed, stricken, and half hidden by the doorway as I watched the two of them quietly. He sighed, and came by to gently lift me, only to see Al behind me. He lifted the both of us on his broad shoulders, and I watched Al cling on for dear life from the corner of my eyes as I gripped the muscular arm, trying desperately not to look weak. If was to look weak, I would have been born a girl – besides, being weak was Winry's job.
"I have to leave.” I heard him say. The foreign word 'Ishvalan' was heard many times as they continued talking. My mother’s vice-like grip on her own arm, and her trembling voice were obvious enough pointers, even for my naïve self, that something was wrong.
"You aren't ever going to leave us, are you?" I blurted out, my mother’s weak state giving me strength. Aunty Pinako had told me that it was a man’s duty to take care of their mothers and wives.
There was silence, as he stared down at me with a frown. "Are you?!" I demanded again, shattering the sudden silence that had settled over the household like the snow of that cold year.
"I won’t ever," he promised me quietly.
Those words were what I clung onto for. He had promised, and that alone was proof enough to my naive mind that he was staying for good, and not suddenly disappearing like he had before.
Alphonse tugged on my sleeve, having walked over a few steps towards my bed. I stifled a yawn, in fear of waking my parents.
This, it turned out, was unnecessary.
In the doorway, the two of them were standing together, mama's stick-like arms handing over a large brown suitcase to him. They were whispering, and the intensity of their talk muffled our footsteps as we neared them carefully. My kinda mama’s sweet, loving eyes had widened when she had seen us, and though her eyes were filled with sadness, she smiled pleasantly at us.
"My, Ed, what are you doing up so late?"
I rubbed my eyes, and yawned again, my hand gripping Al's.
"Al needed to go to the toilet."
"What a good brother you are,” said Mama. “I can always count on you.”
I smiled sleepily at her compliment - her compliments always drove me. My eyes shifted to papa, who stood by the doorway, still, like the year before. He wasn’t smiling.
I couldn’t dare myself to speak, for my cowardly self shook under the intensity of his stare as he looked down at me from up high.
Like the year before, he left with the huge wooden door slamming loudly behind him.
He had deceived me.
That became the last I saw of him for many years. When mama fell ill, he didn’t come back. When she died, he didn’t come back. Even though Al and I had waited for so long, he had not once thought to see how his sons were doing over three years. He didn’t even come to the funeral. His frequent leaves had become one too many.
After three years, he became less than a father to me.
10 years ago.
It was then we started to study human transmutation, and improved our abilities by training with our alchemy master, Izumi Curtis, in order to revive our mother. It took many years, but with thoughts ‘I want to see mama’s face again’ ‘I want to live happily with mama again’, we were able to finish our research.
“– Done… Water, 35 litres; Carbon, 40 Kilograms; Ammonia, 3 litres; lime, 1.5 kilograms; Phosphorus, 800 grams; salt, 250 grams; nitre, 100 grams; Sulfur 80 grams; Fluorine 7.5 grams; Iron, 5 grams; silicon, 3 grams… All right, let’s write the construction circle…
I had thought, with all that research, we would have succeeded.
We were wrong.
I lost an arm and a leg, and my brother lost his whole body.
9 years ago.
“I just came from your house!”
Someone – Someone was talking to me. I couldn’t hear anything. I couldn’t see. All I saw when I looked up was two furious black orbs. The voice was so far away. It frightened me, that after even so much research and gaining so much knowledge; I didn’t know anything that going on.
“What in the world was that? What did you make?!”
So this man had seen it: our mistake – me and my brothers. No… My mistake. I looked down in shame. I was at a loss for words
“I’m sorry.” I heard an empty armour rattle beside me, speaking in Al’s voice. “I’m sorry… We’re sorry…”
I’m sorry.
Aunty Pinako’s abrupt hitting of her pipe on her full ashtray shook me, but only slightly.
Now, the man was talking to me.
“I’m not forcing you,” he said sternly. “I’m just presenting you with the possibilities. Whether you want to end your life in despair or bow down to the army, seeking what possibilities lies there. If the possibility lies on the path, then you should move forward to return your body to normal. Even if that path is a muddy river.”
I looked blankly at him through tired eyes.
6 years ago.
“The Fuhrer president has given you quite the ironic title…”
“What?” I asked, looking up from the pocket watch inlaid into the velvet box.
“No, congratulations,” said Roy. Sarcasm, obviously. “You’re now a dog of the military.” His stony black eyes turned from the window to me, who lounged on the dull brown couch. For a moment, I remembered the first time we had met, and remembered the pity and anger in his eyes. Was he pitying me? “You’ve been appointed as the ‘Fullmetal’ Alchemist.”
“Fullmetal?” Confusion flitted into my voice as I let the foreign words roll off my tongue.
“Yes, the second name given to state alchemists. The name that you’ll be carrying is ‘Fullmetal Alchemist’”
Huh, ironic. Fullmetal… it sounded heavy, like a burden.
“I like it,” I gave a wry smile, “Sounds like something heavy to carry.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” said Roy easily, returning the smile. “You do realise that you’re free to do whatever you want, and research to your heart’s content? I wish you – “
I stood up abruptly, heading for the heavy doors that would lead me outside.
“Yes, yes.”
4 years ago.
"What was his name again... Hohenheim?"
My hands fisted on my lap instinctively as I heard Al's empty armour rattle quietly next to me. I didn’t even try and stop myself from cursing him.
“That,” I spat angrily, “Bastard.”
Alphonse answered instead. "He’s our father” he said gently. Perhaps that he was too young to remember our fathers promise was why he was able to forgive him so easily. I planned to keep it that way; he had no need to know, and even if he did, could he do anything? Hell, I couldn’t do anything.
He’s not our father, I hissed inwardly to myself, not trusting myself enough to say it aloud. A man did not cry.
“Edward,” my teacher commanded her voice one of hard steel.
My mouth betrayed me, as usual.
“He’s not our father,” I snarled. “Even when mama was dying, he didn’t come.”
There was silence as Izumi looked down at me with calculating eyes, poking at the line I had drawn on the subject that my brother knew all too well.
It seemed that she had nothing to say, or had no interest in breaching the subject. My chair scraped the floor loudly as I stood up, and I walked out of the room robotically, ignoring Al’s useless calling out to me.
In my anger, I slammed the door shut behind me.
I froze, as I remembered father slamming the door behind him so many times, so many years ago.
“Edward Hohenheim, huh?,” I heard in my teachers distinct voice, just as I started walking away, compelling me to listen further. I heard my brothers armour clatter quietly in denial, followed by a typical polite Al-answer.
“Pretty much,” Al replied quietly.
I did not wait to hear the rest, and stomped away angrily, making sure to let Izumi Curtis know that I heard her.
3 years ago.
Mama’s Grave. I hadn’t been there for awhile.
However, what I had expected was an empty cemetery, or perhaps Aunty Pinako staring blankly down at mama’s grave.
An all too familiar back, broad and weighed down blocked the view to mama. I had watched this back, hunched over the desk, in his room every day I could as a child, and it was the body in our family picture, in which someone had covered the face of the man in the background. But there was no way. After all this time, why would he come back?
The blonde head turned around, to reveal eyes that were shockingly similar to the ones that stared back at me in the mirror.
“Pinako told me everything,” the blonde man said, turning around fully to face me. I looked away in disgust. “And you burned down my house,” he continued. I would have smiled, in imagining his shock, but I didn’t, I had no such leisure when he was within a kilometre radius of me.
“I did it so there was no turning back.”
“No…” he corrected. “You did it because you’re scared.”
“I did not!” I snapped.
“You did,” he said softly. “You were scared. And you still are. You don’t want to be reminded of your mistake with human transmutation. Stop deceiving yourself, Ed.”
“I’m not!” I denied furiously. “You can’t say anything – you aren’t even our father anymore! Don’t act like you care. You left when we needed you – and mama, and then you come back! You aren’t wanted here, go back!”
“You ran, didn’t you?” he said sadly.
I bit my lip in anger. “What would you know?!” I stomped away, towards Pinako’s house, getting angrier and angrier as I remembered that Hohenheim would be headed there as well.
That night, it rained. The feeling of someone standing next my supposedly sleeping self woke me up, but after nights of being wary, I made no move to show that I was awake. My eyes opened infinitesimally to see his hand hovering over my head. He seemed to have realised, because he walked out, the door closing quietly behind him.
I opened my eyes, and shifted. My joints ached, and I guessed that this was a good time to go to Winry’s empty room and oil the automail.
Over the rain pounding the window, I heard Van Hohenheim’s voice.
“The thing that my sons transmuted… are you sure that it was Trisha?”
“Huh? I told you, it didn’t even look remotely human,” muttered Pinako. “I can’t even call that Trisha-“
“No, that’s not what I mean. For example, her hair or eye colour.”
“What do you mean?” snapped Pinako, her chair being pushed back as she leaned in. “you’re telling me that those boys lost their bodies by creating something that wasn’t even their mother?”
I woke at dawn the next night from a nightmare. Just in time to see his back disappear once more.
Later, I found that what he said was true. A part of my burden was lifted off my shoulders, but I refused to thank him. It wasn’t even enough to repent for what he did to mama… but I regretted letting him leave without a farewell this time.
1 year ago.
“I am the philosopher’s stone.”
He pointed at his chest with a small smile, looking up at me, his lip bleeding where I had punched him earlier.
“So, what are you going to do now?” he asked wryly. “Do you want me to use me to get your limbs and Al’s body back?”
My teeth snapped together audibly. “No!” I snapped. “I decided not to depend on the stone when I found out that the ingredients were humans.”
He smiled, shocking me.
“I-,” I said awkwardly, filling in the silence. “Aunty Pinako told me to tell you mama’s last words…”
“Hmm?”
“’Sorry I couldn’t keep my promise. I’m going to have to leave you first’,” I repeated. There was a silence, and I felt an increasing awkwardness in the atmosphere. “Message delivered!” I snapped.
I stopped. Before me, Van Hohenheim was staring at the night sky, crying. It wasn’t exactly what I had been expecting.
Perhaps he had cared about family. Perhaps, he had never deceived me.
Yesterday.
Aunty Pinako told me she had seen him kneeling in from of mamas grave, smiling, and gone from this world.
She had already ordered a coffin. The hole was already dug, right next to mama.
I thought it was a fitting place.
Today.
I whispered three, dear words so softly, that no one else would hear me but Al, who stood flesh and blood next to me.
“Good bye, father.”
Please take the time to comment on the fanfic. Thanks.
